Alphabet Challenge
by VO1
Summary: Fulfilling a challenge from Livejournal: took prompts for the alphabet. All sorts of 'verses and pairings, most rated R and above. AR/AU/All over
1. Chapter 1: A, Asphyxiation

OK so the way I'm going to post it is: Letter, prompt, pairing, and universe, rating

Starting off with:

**A: ASPHYXIATION (Jason/Raye, Economics-verse, M)  
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There was worse ways to die.

He had seen a couple of them on the Internet.

This was not one of them.

Raye ripped off his belt, which was within the boundaries of normal, but then instead of throwing it on the floor with his shirt and her clothing, she looped it around his neck, slid the end into the buckle, and pulled.

The belt tightened around his neck and cut off most of his air supply. He was able to choke out a small croak before Raye pulled his erection out and impaled herself on it, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Unfortunately, in her ecstasy, she yanked on the end of the belt, pulling it tighter.

Jason did not know why his cock grew harder as his oxygen levels dropped.

He was able to weakly inhale a few times as Raye pushed her hips faster, her skin starting to glow.

A wavering cry, a few spasms, and she was melting on top of him, her breath hitching, her cunt squeezing rhythmically around his cock.

He barely waited for her go slack on top of him before ripping the belt off of his neck and pulling her down underneath him. He buried himself in her and began pumping, grateful to be able to breathe again.

As kinky as asphyxiation was, he needed air to come.

Raye didn't seem to mind.


	2. Chapter 2 : B Bottle Blond

**B:BOTTLE BLONDE (Kevin, pre-Economics, R)**

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Darien picked up on the first ring. "Hey! How was it?"

"Don't do that again."

He laughed. "Why? It's your birthday and you're stuck in a foreign country, a boring one at that, and I'm not there to celebrate with you. It's the least I can do. Was she blonde? I requested a blonde."

Silence. "Yes."

"A real one?"

"No."

"Ah, well, nobody's perfect. So what's the problem?"

Kevin paused before responding. Why couldn't Darien just send cards? "She was about sixty-five years old."

Darien laughed so hard he nearly pissed himself.


	3. Chapter 3: B, Broadway

**B: BROADWAY (M/K, Economics-verse, R)**

**I had two requests for B, this may happen again  
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"Ooh!" Mina wiggled her arms out of her sweater, pulled it over her head and tossed it to the ground with the speed of a firefighter on call. "Food poisoning! We can say we have food poisoning and make retching noises when she calls to see what's been holding us up."

"Too obvious." Kevin's fingers fumbled and jittered as he hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt. "I think I used that for Trevor's first wedding; she'll see right through it."

She unzipped her jeans and got tangled in the twisting denim as she shoved them down, hopping on alternate legs to get them off. "Thanks for wasting a good excuse before we even met. How about headaches?"

"On both of us?" He undid his belt in seconds and tossed it aside. "A little too conveniently coincidental. Plus you can take Excedrin for that."

Her tiny panties rolled down her legs and were kicked across the room. "I can say I have my period!" Mina smiled and reached back to unhook her bra, and got her arms a bit jumbled her haste.

Kevin rolled his eyes. "I can't. How does that help me?"

She giggled and pulled down his pants in one clean motion. "We can her that you're pregnant."

In a flash he grabbed her naked body and slammed her against the wall hard enough to rattle the paintings on their anchors. "That's not clever," he breathed, pressing his forehead against hers as he hitched her up.

Used to this familiar dance, she spread her legs and wrapped them around his waist. "I thought it was." She squeezed his body between her thighs.

"It's not." His mouth found a spot along her jawline and sucked with more than enough pressure to make her moan. She reached down between his legs and guided him into her body. He didn't wait for her to move her hand before he shoved forward.

Their sex was fierce and fast—the show started in a half an hour, and Aunt Kathy and Trevor were waiting outside the theater, in the rain.


	4. Chapter 4: C, Carpool

**C: CARPOOL (Kevin/Zach, Economics, R)**

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His palms were sweating so badly that it was getting difficult to keep a grip on the steering wheel.

If he crashed Zach's father's car, especially in these circumstances, he might as well kill himself in the process, too.

Zach chose that moment to lean over and yell at him. "Why we be at exactly the speed limit? Get in the carpool lane, mon!"

He glanced at his side mirror, then got scared that he had taken his eyes off the road for too long. "What are you talking about? There is no carpool lane."

"There be!"

It dawned on him. "What are you on?"

Zach's green eyes widened from underneath a fringe of grungy dreadlocks. "Shrooms, mon!"

Kevin Chaston, aged fifteen and three quarters, was zipping down the highway in a car that was for all good intents and purposes stolen, with only a learner's permit and a friend who was tripping on shrooms and probably had at least an eighth on him somewhere.

He hoped Fenway was worth it.


	5. Chapter 5: D, Drag

**D: DRAG (Kevin, Economics-verse, PG13)**

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He was standing in front of an exhibit, and again, for the thousandth time, unsure of what he was looking at. Mina had wandered off to talk to some other artist friends of hers; Jason and Raye had disappeared, probably to make out in some dark corner, those freaks, and Jesse was smooth talking a potential buyer. That was basically everyone he knew here tonight.

Thank God there was wine. Cheap wine, but it still did the job.

He was just about to give up and turn away when he felt the presence of someone at his elbow. He glanced over.

The figure was taller than him, no small feat, but probably because she was wearing platform heels. And a flaming orange mini-dress. Inch-long acrylic nails teased the ends of what was undoubtedly a very expensive, sable-colored weave as she clicked her tongue. Her makeup was as thick as a phone book; orange and blue painted over her eyes like an exotic bird, false lashes fanning over bronzed cheeks, and lipstick the color of an erupting volcano.

However, all together, she looked quite glamorous, almost regal. She clucked again and titled her head.

Kevin thought of something to say. "Like the exhibit?"

The queen smiled down at him through half-lidded eyes. "Honey," she drawled, as a crowd began to form. "I am the exhibit."

Someone snapped a picture of them from behind, the flash leaking out between their forms to pop light on the wall. The queen chuckled. "And now you are too, doll."


	6. Chapter 6: E, Elongation

**E: ELONGATION (Zach, Economics-verse, R)**

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His email inbox was cluttered with the usual correspondence, hate mail, and spam, but maybe because it had been a while, one particular piece of junk mail caught his eye.  
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**_XXX ELONGATE YOUR PENIS ROCK HARD ERE_

It was too long to fit in the subject line, but he got the gist.

And thought a second.

Even though his youth had been filled with the most ridiculous immaturity imaginable, he had never really actually measured…it.

No time like the present.

He was pretty sure that flaccid length didn't count, so he dropped trou and picked up his phone at the same time. He had her number memorized; she didn't know that yet.

Yet.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," he said. "Zach."

"Hi." She sounded distracted; it was mid-morning, the middle of the workday for her.

"What are you doing?" he said, playing with himself.

"Working." Now she sounded brusque. "What are you calling for?"

She was so hot when she got bothered.

He was at full staff. No sense wasting it, he thought, spitting into his palm and going at it. "What are you wearing?"


	7. Chapter 7: F, Friendship

**F: FRIENDSHIP (Kevin/Raye, Economics-verse, PG)**

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"It's that one, right?" Kevin whispered as the next painting up for bid was brought out.

Raye gave him a long look; he got the point. "OK, fine, not that one. You know, this would be a lot easier if you just told me which one she wanted."

Raye crossed her arms and turned back to the action. "She's your girlfriend, you have to learn."

The next painting was a Lempicka. The name rang a bell. "It's that one. She likes hands, and that one has an interesting hand." Raye smiled coolly. "Got it." He raised the paddle.

Later, they sat together on Kevin's couch in front of the television with beers in hand. On the screen, the pitcher wound up and threw a fast pitch, which seemed to drop sideways and down before reaching the batter, who didn't swing. Kevin paused the TiVO and looked at her expectantly.

Her eyes rose to the ceiling as she thought. "That was a…um, a fastball?" She slapped her palm against the arm of the couch. "No, a curveball? Ugh! Just tell me! They're all starting to look the same!"

He placidly took a sip of beer. "He's your boyfriend, you have to learn.") 

"It's that one, right?" Kevin whispered as the next painting up for bid was brought out.

Raye gave him a long look; he got the point. "OK, fine, not that one. You know, this would be a lot easier if you just told me which one she wanted."

Raye crossed her arms and turned back to the action. "She's your girlfriend, you have to learn."

The next painting was a Lempicka. The name rang a bell. "It's that one. She likes hands, and that one has an interesting hand." Raye smiled coolly. "Got it." He raised the paddle.

Later, they sat together on Kevin's couch in front of the television with beers in hand. On the screen, the pitcher wound up and threw a fast pitch, which seemed to drop sideways and down before reaching the batter, who didn't swing. Kevin paused the TiVO and looked at her expectantly.

Her eyes rose to the ceiling as she thought. "That was a…um, a fastball?" She slapped her palm against the arm of the couch. "No, a curveball? Ugh! Just tell me! They're all starting to look the same!"

He placidly took a sip of beer. "He's your boyfriend, you have to learn."


	8. Chapter 8: G, Godfearing

**G: GOD-FEARING (Zach/Nana, AWW-verse, PG)**

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She would never question him. If he was sick, then he was undoubtedly dying, and she couldn't bear watching her precious bubeleh suffer like that.

She let him sleep in, and made him chicken soup and grape soda, cold with no ice, the way he liked it. She even brought it to him in bed.

At eleven o'clock, she called and canceled her daily walk with Mrs. Levy and checked in on him. He was still asleep, curled on his side, his sandy curls poking out from the blankets.

She woke him up and took his temperature again, just in case. He was pestered by her fussing, but what was she supposed to do? What if it was serious? Mrs. Edelstein had a nephew who just up and died one night because everyone thought he just had the flu, but he had some sort of brain infection and the next thing they knew they were planning a funeral. She'd better call the doctor again, just in case.

"NO!" Zach pulled the covers over his head; his first hangover was turning out to be worse than he thought. He wished that he had just gone to school, regardless of first period PE.


	9. Chapter 9: H, Honey

**H: HONEY (Darien/Serena, Economics-verse, M)**

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It was the texture that made it ideal.

Chocolate syrup was too thin. RediWhip out of a can went sour quickly, and smelled like a dumpster in August for the rest of the night. Any syrupy concoction purchased at an adult novelty store never failed in tasting like Satan's asshole.

But bee vomit--especially the raw, organic, dark kind purchased at snooty health food stores--was perfect.

It had just the right viscosity to leave enough clinging to the tiny bumps and creases of her nipple as he ran his tongue over the tight bud, feeling the skin tighten and her breath catch as his hand moved between her thighs, which were already damp with trickling moisture.

Honey was the shit.

And Kevin was dumping it in his tea.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Darien practically jumped across the counter and ripped it out of his brother-in-law's hand. "This is NOT for eating!"


	10. Chapter 10: I, InclusionInnocence

**I: INCLUSION/INNOCENT (Nephrite, Crystal Tokyo, PG13)**

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Jupiter arrived home to find one of her living rooms invaded by small children.

Nephrite looked up from the floor amongst the midst of hyperactive bodies and smiled. "Hola, Senora!" he bellowed.

"Hola, Senora!" The kids parroted, giggling and squirming on the thick carpet. One tiny boy with pitch-black hair and eyes jumped on a couch and grinned up at her, chattering away in Spanish. Jupiter summoned a quick translation spell.

She caught him mid-sentence. "—more cookies, ma'am? Please?"

A quick head count revealed four boys, three girls, all under the age of ten, with almond-colored skin and dark hair. Their clothes and faces looked freshly scrubbed, and they all smelled like Jupiter's French vanilla soap.

"Sure thing," she said to the boy, rubbing his head, and then caught Nephrite's eye. He put down the little girl that had been climbing on his back and followed her out of the room, the shrieking of innocent glee trailing them out of the hall.

In the kitchen, she pulled a plate out and started arranging some cookies that she had baked that weekend. "Serenity cult?" They had a problem with those popping up from time to time, although the frequency was falling off in recent years.

He stared at a space across the room and spoke between clenched teeth. "Yes. Their parents were going to sacrifice them as an offering. Because you know, there is nothing Serenity likes more than dead children."

Jupiter sighed. The first cult had been discovered by Jadeite; he had been too late for those children, and the memory of that encounter still tore at his soul. The Queen had dissolved into hysterical tears when she learned what had been done in her name, and had made it a mission to stomp out those groups before they picked up membership.

"We can't keep them," she said simply, stating the obvious. They would be overrun if they personally housed every child they rescued.

He was looking at his hands. "I know."

She put the plate down and reached out and pulled him into her arms, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. He knew, but he never stopped.


	11. Chapter 11: J, Jarhead

**J: JARHEAD (Rei/Mako, non-specified AR, M)

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"Come back with me."

Rei laughed. "No!"

The Marine crossed his arms and leaned on the bar, trying to ignore his buddy, who was busy making out with her friend on her other side, and tried not to look petulant. "Why not?"

"Because," she said, stirring her drink with her straw. "I'm not special. Jarheads—" She ran a hand briefly through his blonde high-and-tight. He shuddered. "—Will fuck anything."

He scoffed. "That's not true." At that moment, another soldier passed behind them, his tongue halfway down the throat of a woman who was old enough to be his grandmother. "OK, I know him, and that guy's a straight up, whiskey tango freak. Don't judge all of us by him."

"Right." She didn't look convinced.

He had another idea. "How about this? I will not have sex with you."

"You won't?" She tossed her hair over one shoulder and stared out at him from underneath dark lashes.

"No." He thought how to phrase it and still remain somewhat of a gentleman, before chucking that idea and going for broke. "But I will go down on you literally all night. I will do it until my neck and jaw are fucking killing me and my tongue is about to fall off. I will get you off so many times you will never forget it as long as you are alive."

Rei considered. "You can do that?"

"All. Night."

"You will not try and slip me penis?"

"I will only slip you dick if you want it. I promise."

She kept quiet and counted to thirty, knowing he was sweating the entire time. "All right. Let's go."

Her friend pulled away. "Hey. I want that, too," she said, pulling her auburn curls into a ponytail, then sliding off the stool and following her friend out the door.

The other Marine threw a dirty look at his buddy. "Fuck you J. You know my root canal is still healing. How am I going to eat pussy for that long?"

He shrugged and threw some money on the bar. "Sack up, soldier. Ready, Nate-dawg?"

He sighed and cracked his jaw. "We're in for a long night."


	12. Chapter 12: L, Lipstick

**L: LIPSTICK (Jason, Economics-verse, R)

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He was tired, and had left the toilet seat up, but it was Raye who left her stuff around the sink, so it was technically her fault.

He heard a ping of something plastic hitting porcelain and a distinct "ploop". It was an unmistakable sound.

His first instinct was to swivel around and make sure there were no witnesses to his moment of boneheaded clumsiness, a habit he picked up from living with retaliatory roommates. When it was established that he was alone, he put down his razor, leaned over, and focused past his reflection in the water to stare at the small plastic object sitting squarely at the bottom of the toilet, hoping it was something benign, like a toothpaste cap.

Oh good Goddamn holy chucklefuck was he screwed.

At least the toilet hadn't been used. Thank God for small favors.

He dove down and pulled it out, his hands still slick with shave cream, and shook the excess water off of it before wiping the case on his boxers. His stomach twisted: the object had two unmistakable interlocking C's on one end. Even if he didn't futz with graphics and logos all day, he would know what it connotated.

He popped it open and swiveled it up, but before he could examine the pigment inside to see if it had taken on water, Raye burst in the bathroom, a furious flurry of half-dried hair and nylon hose.

"Oh God, I'm late!" she said, pulling the lipstick out of his hand and bringing it to her lips.

"NO!" With the speed of a hockey goalie, he knocked it to the floor, where it landed stick-down, leaving a reddish wax splotch on the linoleum.

He had to explain fast, because her detonator was about to go off.

When she got home that night, she was treated to an explosion of her own. Jason ripped the online receipt off his desk and chucked it at her. "Are you serious? You wear twenty-five dollar lipstick?!"

She squared her shoulders. "What's wrong with my lipstick?"

"For that price, it should make you orgasm!"


	13. Chapter 13: M, Mesmerize

**M- MESMERIZE (Zach/Raye, Economics-verse, PG13)

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Raye felt stupid enough for being on her hands and knees in the middle of the crowded gallery, and even more so when Jesse instructed her to stick her head in the box on the floor. Modern art was such bullshit sometimes. "Now what?"

"Keep looking straight ahead," he said, glancing behind him at the person leaning against the opposite wall. The guy gave him an expectant nod; he sighed. "I'm going to turn it on now."

Raye arched her back to get more comfortable, locking into the yoga cow pose. Suddenly, the inside of the dark box exploded in technicolor. "Oh wow," she breathed, mesmerized by the pulsing light. "This is pretty neat."

"Take your time." Jesse moved back and left her to experience his creation. Raye didn't answer or move, a small success on his part. He joined Zach at the wall, whose gaze was laser-focused on Raye's posterior.

Zach held out his fist for a bump. "Partner in crime. Nice piece."

Jesse was positive that Zach was not referring to the art.


End file.
